I heard her voice before I saw her.
While I was checking in with the receptionist, I heard her explaining to her husband about his procedure. She lovingly, kindly, patiently explained the test they would perform on his arteries.
With my clipboard in hand, I sat near the husband on a couch in the waiting room. I realized a woman in a wheelchair was near him, but didn’t pay much attention. As I answered the questions about my medical history and symptoms with almost all no’s, I realized how fortunate I am to have these interruptions to my schedule – these bothersome tests that are recommended when one reaches a certain age – be nothing more than that. I became conscious of the frail woman sitting near me. She couldn’t have weighed more than 80 pounds. But her leg braces and shoes looked much heavier. She sat erect in that chair, though, alert and composed.
After her husband was called for his procedure, she sat quietly waiting. When I heard a mechanical sound, I realized she had tapped her watch and it was audibilizing the time for her. I paused to think of the challenges she has every day and now her husband is in for some tests. My interruption to my day for this pesky test was seeming less troublesome by the moment.
Before I could complete my pages of family medical history and engage her in conversation, her partner returned. He said, “ I can go now. Should we call transport?” “Yes, push me over and we’ll ask them to call.” She tapped her watch again and it gave the time as “8:05.” Then again, and it spoke “8:06.” But it was 11:06 a.m. Oh, my.
The pair approached the desk where, in a confident voice, she asked, “Could you call our transport for us, please? The number is ….”. She recited the ten digits confidently. And, then, “Thank you,” in as strong a voice as any southern lady possesses. That voice alerted me that this woman did not want my sympathy. She has my respect.
I’ve thought of this couple many times in the days since that encounter. I wonder about his test results. I wonder who cooks for them. I wonder if they get out a lot and interact with other people. But I do not wonder if she is handling everything like a steel magnolia. I know she is.
Art quilt notes: The finished size is 13” x 17”. The line drawing is free-motion machine stitched on a remnant of an old linen pillowcase. The remainder of the work is hand stitching – layers of vintage lace, buttons, and an old quilt fragment complete the assembly. The lace tablecloth remnant and linen coaster used as a label were dyed in my indigo vat.
This time of year we see hearts in abundant numbers. This symbol of love is everywhere, and often seen in shades of red.
I love the heart motif and have it all around my house and in quilts I’ve made. This year I’ve been adding to my bowl of blue hearts in the breakfast room. I made a few last year and in the past couple of weeks, I’ve been adding more.
I’ve used ribbons, buttons, and lace to embellish some of them. In other cases, I just stitched and stuffed some of my favorite fabrics. I added French knots to one. On another I stitched pearls from a rescued strand I bought. The fabrics include barkcloth, vintage ticking, African indigo batik, hand-dyed linen, bits of an old quilt, and fabrics from well-worn clothing.
Oh, I can use red fabric, too.
In 1952, he was four years old and wanted to fly a kite. In this photo, he watched as his Daddy held the string and the kite climbed higher and higher. The air was crisp, the wind pulling the string quickly. At the moment the photo was taken, the boy sensed disaster on the horizon.
When asked for appropriate titles for this art quilt, he said, Childhood Trauma, or Hold Tight, Daddy, or Don’t Let Go, would all be appropriate. In truth, he barely remembers the day, and probably wouldn’t remember it at all were it not for the photo. This is exactly the kind of experience I love to capture in cloth. A memory. A story. A moment frozen.
I appliquéd the kite using a bit of French General red fabric, and hand embroidered the kite string and tails. When I added machine quilting stitches, I used dark thread to emphasize the fence posts and trees.
The piece finished at 16” x 22”. A vintage doily serves as the label.
On this Black Friday we wanted to drive backroads with the camera and maybe find an antique shop or two. One goal of photography was some country Christmas scenes. The treasure of the day was a church decorated with Christmas wreaths on every window. And, this church has a chimney. I’ve never seen a church with a chimney. An old cemetery surrounded by a white picket fence is well maintained by a local boy scout troop.
We had lunch at our favorite locally owned restaurant in Monroe, GA, across the street from this pocket park. The focus of this park is an old bank vault (left when the downburst of ’93 destroyed the building). Two treasures here: the safe itself and the fact that the town preserved it and made a park there.
Visits to a few antique stores generated minimal purchases. The highlight for me was packages of old bias tape and rickrack, all cotton, all unopened, bearing original $.19 price tags. I could imagine the vendor thinking, “nobody will want this old stuff.” And, I’m thinking, “WOW. What fun is this!” The wicker item had a tag saying “lampshade,” but I thought “bee skep”.
Yes, we did some shopping on Black Friday. But we didn’t elbow anyone out of the way, never stood in line, didn’t get frustrated, and had no traffic snarls to navigate. Back roads and small businesses, that’s the way to do it.
